Drinking with Gods
by GodModeSama
Summary: One-shot. You meet the most colorful people in the taverns of Skyrim.


**A/N: I appreciate all forms of reviews. Criticisms help me improve as a writer and praise is, of course, always welcome. I tried my best to keep this Dovahkiin as vague as possible so you might be better able to insert your own, because everyone knows there's no Dovahkiin like _your_ Dovahkiin!**

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I felt lost. I didn't have a cause. The familiar feeling that had accompanied me all my life up until that fateful day I was bound, gagged and thrown onto that cart with Ulfric Stormcloak had returned in full force. Letting out a sigh, I watched my breath form a frozen cloud before stepping through the gates of Solitude, pulling my cloak tighter around me and giving a curt nod in response to the biting wind and the gate guard muttering 'Watch the skies, traveler.' respectively. I made my way down the main street and turned onto a smaller one after a few houses before arriving at my destination. I pushed the door in and entered.

"Welcome to the Winking Skeever!" The barman shouted across the din that filled the room. I nodded once in greeting and let out another long, drawn-out sigh before pulling down my fur-lined hood.

On an average day Corpulus Vinius would have taken notice of the chill that permeated my body and offered me a drink. Today, however, the Skeever was packed to bursting. I wasn't very surprised, a dragon being successfully repelled from the nearby town of Dragon Bridge was certainly something to celebrate. The corners of my mouth twitched as I wondered whether any of the patrons here knew who exactly it was that drove off the monster, but my mind quickly turned instead to finding an empty seat in the busy tavern.

I scanned the room slowly, my eyes passing over potential openings in which to sit down before realizing it was merely a mage in a dark cloak or trick of light and being forced to resume my endeavor. For a moment, I considered the possibility of announcing who I was to them all in hope some of them would give up their seat to a living legend, but the idea vanished as quickly as it came, as it was just then that I finally caught sight of an almost empty table in the furthest corner, occupied by a hooded individual and an old man quietly conversing with one another. Even the drunks seemed to be giving them space.

It was probably best to keep that sort of thing under wraps anyways, I thought as I made my way over. People tended to expect something from you when they realize you're the great hero that vanquished Alduin the World-Eater. After finally winding through the crowd of patrons I arrived at my destination. As I approached, the two men, as I could now clearly tell by their body shapes, ceased their talking and looked up at me expectantly. I gave the second nod since entering the tavern.

"Mind if I sit down?" I asked in a slightly hoarse voice. Shouting always put such a strain on the vocal chords, my throat ached almost as badly as my feet by this point.

To my relief, the old man flashed me a toothy grin that shone brilliantly through his neat, grey goatee. "O' course you can!" He called out jovially. "But be warned, I don't believe this fine establishment actually serves Skeever! I've already had a few choice words with that barman about his false advertising." I felt the blood drain from my face. I had heard that odd accent once before.

"This one is eyeing you as though you two have met before, old friend." The hooded man said to his drinking companion. This one I didn't recognize, lank brown hair framed what little handsome face I could see under his tattered robe's hood, but despite his humble attire he had a noble's bearing.

Sheogorath's eyes darted toward his 'old friend' and then back to me so fast I barely saw them. "Are they? Interestin'. You wouldn't happen to be the one whose farm I blessed with ever-growing cabbages during a rather enjoyable evening spent with my dear brother Sanguine, would you? I'm still tryin' to find that farmer so they can thank me properly, but last I heard he was crushed by a cabbage the size of a small mountain. Complete coincidence though, I'm sure." After staring at me in a most uncomfortable manner for a few moments, he once again adopted that foolish grin, revelation in his odd black and yellow eyes. "Aha! Yes I remember you! You were the help that allowed me to relax on my last vacation!"

Inwardly I grimaced. That hadn't been the most pleasurable experience in recent memory. Though thankfully I had yet to enter the mind of another mad man after assisting the old man before me a few months back, so I supposed I should at least count my blessings for that. Outwardly, I did my best to keep my voice and expression as neutral as possible. "Yes. Yes indeed my Lord, that was me. I'm honored you remembered me."

The Mad God gave a hearty chuckle and made a flowery motion with his hand. A pink and lime green goblet set with yellow gems materialized in mid-air before me, filled to the brim with a foul-smelling brown liquid. I eyed the odd, bubbling concoction warily while the man continued. "And why shouldn't I? Not every day ya get to meet the one that made such a fool out of ol' Martin's son!"

At Sheogorath's words, the hooded man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I've told you countless times now that Alduin is not my son. He is me, and isn't me. It's very complicated." He cast the grey-haired Prince a weary look. "And besides, Alduin was out of control. He needed to be taught a lesson. Well done, by the way." He added with a look to me and a wink.

Realizing exactly what this conversation was implying, I nearly spilled my untouched drink over as I raised a finger to point at him. "Y-... You're Akatosh?" I tried my best to assume a casual air and gave a slightly nervous laugh. "S-so I guess I should be thanking you for my sore throat?"

The man laughed softly and gave me a warm smile. It took me a moment to realize it had happened, but I felt the tension in my chest dissipate. "I prefer to be addressed as Martin, actually, and the Aedra aren't really allowed to interact with the mortal plane as liberally as the Daedric Princes, but yes, in a manner of speaking I guess you could say I am Akatosh." Beside him Sheogorath let out a bored sigh.

"And I'm the ruddy Queen of Hammerfell! Who gives a damn about names, I'm here to drink, and it looks to me like you've done very little drinking, mortal!" He shouted while glaring at my still-full goblet. "Go on! Drink, drink! That's the finest port from Hale! It's straight from the Isles, you should be praisin' my name an' sacrificin' babies just for lettin' you have even a small taste!"

I looked down at the so-called port and back up hesitantly. Martin gave a small nod that the Daedric Prince didn't seem to notice, and I slowly raised it to my lips. It was amazing. After taking a few long gulps from the cup, I set it down and prepared to address the now much more amiable Mad God. "I'm guessing me running into a Daedric Prince and one of the Divine drinking like old friends in a pub in Solitude wasn't mere coincidence?"

Sheogorath let out a bark of laughter and commented on this being the second time I had been aware that I, the foolish little mortal, was being manipulated. Martin grimaced at the goateed man before addressing me. "We have had this little get-together planned for some time now actually, but you seemed to have timed your defeat of Alduin rather nicely so we thought you might like to join us."

At my confused look, Sheogorath rolled his eyes dramatically and leaned his cane across the table to tap me more-than-lightly on the forehead. "You got Nirnroot for a brain? Martin just called you a hero like one o' us, so that earns you a place at the big boys table!"

Rubbing the spot that I had been hit more than a little irritably, I couldn't bite back the response that escaped my lips. "'Like one of us?' How in Oblivion is the Daedric Prince of Madness considered a hero. You're completely bonkers. You'd be more of a hinderance than a help."

Instantly regretting my choice of words, I awaited the twisted fate that the Mad God would no doubt bestow upon me, but instead to my astonishment, the Prince merely broke off his wondering aloud what brain-Nirnroot might taste like and grinned at me. "And just because I'm a Daedric Prince now, why should that mean I didn't hold a job before this gig, hmm? Wouldn't you think that one would need some experience to apply for a position as lucrative at this?"

Before I had a chance to respond however, Martin cut me off. "By all accounts you've fulfilled the task the Divine created you to fulfill. Where does that leave you? You're still alive, so surely you haven't opted to just off yourself now that your next path isn't written on some slab of rock." He met eyes with the Mad God and the two exchanged a meaningful look, somehow remaining serious even with Sheogorath twirling his cane and whacking the serving lady in the back of the head. "You told Paarthurnax you don't believe in destiny. You just do what has to be done. So what are you going to do now that you don't have anything that needs to be done?"

I didn't need to ask how Martin knew what I had said to my draconic master atop that peak, I had accepted him for what he claimed himself to be from the moment he revealed himself. What instead caused me to pause before answering was the question he had posed. "I suppose... I could turn my eyes to the Civil War now. Lend my support to the Empire or the Stormcloaks... and... there are the Thalmor." I furrowed my brow, my thoughts turning toward the one person I found myself thinking about more and more now that I was no longer pre-occupied with chasing down Alduin. "And I'd like.. to start a family."

Sheogorath let out a reminiscent sigh. "Ah, Martin my boy. Remember the days when your Papa's dear sweet Empire didn't have its manhood in a firm grip by some little elves?" I cringed at the vulgar, but accurate, metaphor. Martin did the same.

"I only have myself to blame for that. We worked so hard to make me Emporer and save what my family had spent some much time on creating. We were so close..." He clenched his fists on the table and closed his eyes, clearly frustrated. I felt somewhat out-of-place in this conversation, but watched the two deities, captivated. Martin's grip relaxed, and he opened his eyes, though they reflected nothing but sadness and regret. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't broke the Amule-"

Sheogorath cut the hooded Septim off with a yawn. "Honestly Martin, nobody likes a sulking Susy. But don't tell Duke Sulking Susy from my court that. She's enough of a downer already. We did what we thought was right at the time. And it worked. Now every time I go to a family reunion, I get to rub it in Cousin Dagon's face that a couple little wimpy mortals foiled his plans. Oh, how he fumes when I say that!"

The Mad God had adopted a look of great content, which was so contagious even Martin's expression lightened somewhat. I, however, had to voice something that had been gnawing at me up until now, something that Sheogorath had casually mentioned in his conversation with Pelagius the Mad when I had first arrived in the insane ruler's mind. "Scholars says there was no real way the Oblivion Crisis could have been stopped without Divine interference. Some of the more devout think Martin Septim fused with Akatosh that day." I inclined my head at the hooded man across from me." I see that that theory turned out to be true, but what about the Hero of Kvatch and the Champion of Cyrodiil? Records of him simply disappeared after a certain point in time."

Martin opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Sheogorath rose from the table and stretched exaggeratedly. "It's gettin' late, Martin. The Dragonborn should be off to bed soon, they're just a wee little mortal, after all. Personally, I can't afford to break curfew with Haskill once more. He said he'd start taking away my right to host weekly troll balls in the courtyards if I keep it up!" He adopted a long-suffering expression beneath his goatee before giving a small, flowery bow to Martin, who had also risen to his feet. "You really should accompany me to one of Hircine's human hunts! Marvelous time, they are! Dagon usually comes too, and I bet he'd be very keen on seeing you again!" He added with a wink and a laugh, which Martin returned in full.

"I'm sure he would be. I'll consider it, my old friend." Martin turned his gaze to me. "And speaking with people I've been interested in seeing, I'm glad I got a chance to talk to you tonight. The ah, 'Mad God', said you were a very interesting individual. For a mortal." He quickly tagged on after catching sight of the look Sheogorath was giving him. "Here's hoping the first time won't be the last time."

I frowned. "Are you implying something?" The Septim merely shrugged.

"Anything is possible. The three of us are living proof of that."

And with that he gave the Daedric Prince and I a curt nod, left a pouch of gold coins far too large to have fit in the sleeve from which he had drawn it from on the table, and strode out the door, wishing the remaining patrons and the barman a good night. I watched the door silently for a moment before remembering I was now alone with an insane demon lord and turned back around, but the old man was merely looking at me with a curious look in his eye.

Suddenly, he drew himself up to full height, and patted me on the shoulder in a grandfatherly sort of way. "You should hurry up with all that nasty adventuring business and spend as much time with your family as you can. I wasn't as fortunate as you, I wandered aimlessly after that day in the Imperial City. There was no point in returning to the Sanctuary, to re-donning that blasted Cowl. My life had no meaning until I found that portal to the Isles. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. Not after having been forced to live through it for all those years." He strode past me out of sight.

I didn't turn as I addressed him for the last time in a long while. "For the Daedric Prince of Madness, that was a surprisingly sane statement."

The voice that responded did not hold that telltale accent. It was tired, as though it's owner had seen more than their fair share of the world, and reminded me vaguely of Tullius and the other Imperials that had been born in the heartland of the Empire.

"Flawless sanity could be seen as the greatest madness of all, Dragonborn. After all, everyone is a _little_ mad."

I turned as quickly as I could, but he was gone.


End file.
